True Battle
by SilverHusky
Summary: Combat is not how it always seems in a game. What happens in true battles? Only one will emerge alive.


_[With the absence of protection,_

_Laughter flees and sorrow conquers._

_Old hatred is revived afresh_

_As enemies clash once again._

_Loved ones shriek and perish,_

_And then, there is only revenge left...]_

_**Assassin vs Dryad**_

_**Location: um_fild01**_

The assassin paused, the double _katars_ crossed in front of him; a defense against any unexpected attacks. He peered cautiously around a curtain of hanging vines. There.

In the clearing stood a creature, somewhat like a woman tangled in a plant. A dryad. Her small feet rested on the base of the fronds and her arms were held slightly apart from her body, vine tendrils twining around her fingers. Uprooted from the ground, the stubby root-like feet of the plant only slightly depressed the thick carpet of fallen leaves. She was absolutely unclothed, save for the thin vines and soft leaves twisting around her body, covering the more intimate areas.

It was almost incomprehensible that such a beautiful and elegant creature could be the source of so much sorrow, regret and fury in the assassin's heart.

And now her eyes were closed, a faint smile playing on her lips as vines waved around and expertly twisted her long dark green hair, braiding and coiling it into a complicated pile set on her head.

The assassin tensed. Now would be a perfect time for an attack. He reached deep within himself, finding the pulsing core. Pulling out the spiritual energy, he molded a faint blue aura around himself.

"_Cloaking_!" He whispered under his breath as he began to fade from plain view. Only a faint shimmer was left where the assassin had stood, easily mistaken for a heat wave.

Stepping carefully out of the vines, he padded silently towards the dryad. That _Cloaking_ skill had certainly proved its worth; the dryad did not sense him at all.

Raising his right _katar_, the assassin's clenched fist tensed on the handle. He was definitely contracted to Death now. There would be no escape; only one of them would leave this clearing alive.

His eyes hardened with resolve. Fixing his sight on his target, the assassin brought the raised blade down savagely and, just as vines inserted a long thorn into her hair to hold it in place, a long deep slash tore through the dryad's pale back.

Hissing with shock, the dryad spun around and anger marred her perfect features. Slightly greenish sap oozed out from the cut, forming a seal around the wound and closing seamlessly, as if it had never opened before.

The assassin swore silently. He had known of the dryad's incredibly fast healing skills but nothing had prepared him for such speed and skill. He could tell his _Cloaking_ would not last for much longer and he sidestepped immediately, both _katars_ striking with unnatural speed. New gashes appeared and closed almost immediately as the dryad's emerald eyes darted about wildly, vines readying for combat.

With a faint popping sound, the assassin blinked back into view, his half-masked face coldly emotionless as he continued his barrage of attacks on the dryad.

Snarling at the sight of a mere human attacker, the dryad twitched her index fingers and vines sprung up from the ground, bursting through the rotting leaves. The razor-sharp creepers drew bloody lines on the dirty white bandages around the assassin's calves before retracting instantly.

Eyes narrowing a little, the assassin's tattered scarf whirled about his body as he darted to the left of the dryad, _katar_ blades flashing in the morning sun. His arms were a blur of black, blood-red and silver as he wove through the stabbing vines which were always a fraction of a second too late to catch the lithe figure.

Thoroughly enraged now, the dryad swiftly commanded new vines to extend, this time equipped with hooked thorns. They twisted into a drill-like spearhead, and by the looks of it, undoubtedly sharp and tough enough to pierce through one's body, armor or not.

_**/Die, Assassin!/**_ The dryad screeched, serrated vine spear raised and prepared to strike.

The assassin quickly raised his expertly crafted and refined _katars_ over his chest, pure white hair falling over his eyes just as the vine spear struck home. The shock of the blow sent him flying across the clearing, skidding to a halt against a tree.

The dryad gave a scream of pure rage and stepped menacingly towards the fallen assassin, another vine spear already forming to replace the shattered one.

The assassin rose shakily, supporting his protesting body with a _katar_. He knew he only had enough strength for one last blow. One last chance. It had to be enough.

He began to raise both _katars_, eyes boring into the terribly beautiful dryad.

Then, he started; his arms were trapped! A sudden jerk slammed the assassin against the unforgiving tree trunk, head snapping backwards then forward again. Wincing at his abused body, the assassin felt a growing dread as he realized the monster's plan.

When he fell earlier, sturdy vines had twisted around his arms and torso, now holding him in a rough _T_ against the tree. When the dryad attacked, he would be defenseless.

Now rendered immobile, the assassin struggled fruitlessly, finding that the vines looped securely around his arms and chest just tightened when he did so. In no hurry now, the dryad's face was calm and peaceful, barely masking the fury beneath. She stalked forward.

_**/Well, Assassin, you have done a good job./**_ The dryad purred, ignoring the hatred that shone through the assassin's deep red eyes. A single vine rose up, trailing across the trapped assassin's face, leaving behind a long line of blood. The vine abruptly whipped away, opening a wide gash on the assassin's right cheek. He barely flinched.

_**/However you try, you cannot beat me, Assassin./**_ Hissing, the dryad leant closer. _**/I will kill you like I did the rest./**_ Her mouth twisted into a snarl.

_**/You shall DIE!/**_ Anger overtook the dryad and she raised her second spear, jabbing it viciously towards the assassin.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as the spearhead filled the assassin's vision. Horror flooded his mind and his body reacted instinctively.

Ducking his head, he twisted his torso to the right, whipping his legs up into a butterfly kick. A loud pop rang through the air as his still ensnared left arm wrenched out of its socket and his jaw clenched tightly in pain. The attack connected with the surprised dryad's chest, making her stumble backwards. As the assassin landed, he knew that his left arm was useless now; a necessary sacrifice made to save his own life.

The dryad was already recovering, he realized. True to his training, he forcefully blocked out the gut-wrenching throbbing shooting through his limp arm, shrugging off the snapped vines still clinging to his body. Spiked levels of killing intent charged the atmosphere as the two enemies sprung at each other once again.

The assassin spun, twisting his body. A wordless cry to the heavens tore out as he thrust his only functional arm forward, blade flashing.

A sudden silence fell over the clearing with the two figures frozen in the centre, disturbed only by the heavy breathing of the both foes.

_Drip._

Leaves that were kicked up fell softly to the ground, followed quickly by a continuous stream of blood, staining the dead leaves bright red.

_Drip._

A venomous hiss. The dryad futilely attempted to push further, stopped by the hilt of a _katar_ pressed against her chest. Paying no heed to the blade buried deep in her body, she glared at the assassin.

_Drip._

The twisted vines had speared through the assassin, slanting outwards, smashing the left collar bone and exiting from the back of the shoulder. His heaving chest was the only sign of exertion; everything else was hidden behind a blank mask.

_Drip._

Now he straightened, pulling his _katar_ out with a jerk. He looked at the dryad who had just tried to kill him, the dryad who had caused the deaths of all his precious people. He had been unable to protect them... Only revenge had been left, and now it was finally completed.

_Drip._

The dryad coughed. Her eyes still smoldered with raw hate, but her arms did not obey her any longer. The vine spear loosened from its complicated twist, shriveling and withering within the assassin's terrible wound.

_Drip._

The dryad and the assassin locked eyes for a second longer, each hating the other with every bit of their existence. Then the moment was gone, the dryad throwing her head back in a silent scream as her body hardened and petrified, cracking lines splitting across the surface.

_Drip._

The assassin stared at the spectacle impassively. The dryad was gone. That was all that mattered.

A stab of pain resounded through his body and he staggered, reminded of his injuries. Bile rose in his throat as he retched, every small movement amplified in pain. Trembling hands fumbled at his waist pouch, grabbing hold of a glass vial with thick white liquid sloshing inside. Quickly removing the stopper, he drank the entire potion, ignoring the faint bitter aftertaste accompanying it.

The assassin grunted, feeling a welcome numbness spread through his body, followed by gentle warmth. He stood motionless as he felt his battered body repair, minor cuts sealing and torn muscles healing. His dislocated shoulder and the wound sustained from the spear were far too serious to be cured so easily. He'd need a healer for those.

But he had escaped alive from that monster, a feat none before him had achieved. He would be the one to leave alive.

The assassin took a step back, stumbling but catching himself in time before he collapsed. Leaning against the rough tree trunks, he retreated slowly to his first shelter, leaving behind a trail of blood.

Sinking to the ground behind the large rain tree, the assassin struggled to keep his eyes open. Before darkness claimed him, one last thought flashed through his mind.

_I have avenged you, my friends. Finally, rest in peace._


End file.
